Read Online Parker And The Gypsy by Susan Carroll - Free Book Online

Mike’s inner voice scoffed.
    But Mike ignored it.
    â€œSo, okay,” he said briskly, rubbing his hands together. “I’d like to get started on the case right away, Sara. Do you have any facts that I can use to begin tracing Patrick? Cold hard facts, evidence, not any crystal ball stuff.”
    â€œWell, there are some old photographs and things in a jewel box out at the old Pine Top Inn.”
    â€œGood, let’s go get them.”
    â€œAll right.” Sara nodded, but an uneasy expression crossed her face. “Michael, I know you don’t want to be involved with the more spiritual side of this case. But if you want to take any information away from the Pine Top Inn, there is someone’s approval you’re going to have to get.”
    â€œWho’s that?”
    â€œMamie.”
    â€œNo problem. I’m sure I can get around any dame—” Mike froze, his jaw dropping as he suddenly remembered who Sara was talking about.
    Mamie Patrick.
    The ghost.

Four
    M ike’s red Mustang sped past the outskirts of Aurora Falls, heading down the winding road that led toward Old Pine Lake. The rush of wind through the open top of the convertible tugged strands of Sara’s hair loose from her ponytail and left her feeling slightly breathless.
    Or perhaps that last phenomenon could be more accurately attributed to the man seated behind the wheel, his determined male aura capable of filling the interior of this tiny car and then some.
    There’d been a brief moment when Sara had thought she’d lost him, as soon as the subject of Mamie’s ghost had come up again. But whatever smart-aleck remark had hovered on the tip of his tongue, for once, Mike had been able to swallow it.
    He’d hardly waited long enough for her shop assistant to return from lunch before whisking Sara out the door and into his car.
    As the Mustang raced down the road, the roar of the wind in their ears made conversation difficult and Sara was glad of it. She needed time to think. Unlike Mike, she wasn’t used to rushing into anything. Before she had ever decided to visit his detective agency, she’d spent a whole afternoon meditating over the rightness of her choice. And last night, she’d convinced herself that she really was not disappointed she’d been unable to hire Mike, that she was better off without ever seeing him again.
    That was why it had been very disconcerting to have him pop up in her shop today, like a genie uncorked from a bottle. And if genies looked the way he did, no woman would bother rubbing the lamp again to wish for anything more.
    Sara’s eyes strayed to where Mike’s tall frame lounged behind the wheel, his attention focused on the road ahead. They were cramped so close together, she couldn’t help being aware of the lean, hard muscle encased in the tight legs of his jeans, the broad reach of shoulders that made him seem all solid male. The rumpled lion of yesterday was gone, his tawny hair obviously freshly trimmed, his rock-hard jaw clean shaven. It should have made him look tamer, but somehow it didn’t.
    Noticing such things was a new and disturbing sensation for Sara. The man exuded enough sensuality to tempt a nun to set aside her veil, and for some reason, Sara found the tune of an old country tune running through her head. Something about the devil and never realizing he’d have blue eyes and blue jeans.
    But Mike’s eyes were a very wicked brown. Sara wished she knew what was going on behind them, but he’d shielded himself behind a pair of dark sunglasses. It made her a little uneasy. It wasn’t her nature to be suspicious, but she wasn’t certain she completely trusted Mike Parker.
    A part of her was glad, even grateful he’d decided to take on her case after all. As much as she pretended, she hadn’t been fully confident about her ability to find John Patrick on her own. It would be a relief to leave that up